


you bade me goodbye without an answer

by shilu_ette



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Not A Happy Ending, everyone fails at life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 01:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6591403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shilu_ette/pseuds/shilu_ette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tsukikage. They meet again as ex-lovers. Tsukishima believes that he is rational and that his love is pointless. He sees an older Kageyama and reevaluate his decisions. But it takes two to create a change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you bade me goodbye without an answer

**Author's Note:**

> Will edit this slowly. I'm sorry if you spot any grammar mistakes; I wrote this while I should have been catching up on sleep.

 

1.

 

Hello. It’s been awhile.

He looked at me with a dumbstruck expression on his face as he stumbled his way towards us. Soon he nodded, slightly regaining his footing and answered back, yeah. Huh. Around us, everyone was boisterous and loud, and I could not hear what you were mouthing, but I knew it was inconsequential. You mouthed back, hello. Yamaguchi snuck a glance at me even as he offered Kageyama an empty seat and a glass.

 

“Come sit here, Kageyama,” he said.

 

You're too old to be asking for my approval. I swallowed those words down with another drink. I handled my glass with care and schooled my face as Kageyama did not sit for another second, enough for Sugawara senpai to say from the other side of the room, sit down Kageyama. Only then did he nod forcefully and sit next to me. Our eyes met for a brief while but I soon looked away. I instead handed him a bottle of heated sake. It was still warm.

 

“Here.”

 

I thought he would not take it. I have practice, he would have said, or, I have a match soon and I have my muscles to consider. I thought he would snort. But he took my offerings quietly, and poured himself a glass. I was surprised to learn that he grew up into a functional adult and acted like one. My old smirk came back. Kageyama looked at me with animosity and at least that was a familiar face. He looked at my smirk.

 

“What?” He scowled.

 

“I didn’t know your highness drank these days. I just thought how much you’ve grown.”

 

Old habit, this. I mock and goad him; in return, I expect him to yell at me and reciprocate in kind. Yet he only bit his lips and did not act in the way that I expected him to. He stayed silent until a smaller voice emerged.

 

“I don’t have a match tomorrow.” His voice was weak. I forgot my next lines and only stared at his neck. Irritation bubbled inside of me, and I wanted to order another drink. It was going to be a long night.

 

2.

 

To have Kageyama as your first love was idiotic. Not only that, it was completely disastrous.

 

I spent some time agonizing over this fact when I learned that I liked this stupid boy with his genius and lack of human skills necessary to navigate this world. He only knew the language of volleyball and was easy to anger. He was stupid and we would have nothing to talk about. And besides all of the above, he lived his life as he wished and sought passion through the things he loved. I did not have that same type of passion. But soon I felt ridiculous for even liking such a boy and spent many nights trying to suppress such longings.

 

After our first year, Kageyama asked me to practice tossing with him. I said yes without much thought, and we spent some nights practicing our tossing and timing to each other in an empty gym. This was what Hinata would do, I thought many times. I told him this, but he only looked at me, uncomprehending, but don’t you need to practice your spikes too?

 

“But I didn’t mean we should practice together. I’m not that devoted,” I said. The night was trying, and my arms hurt. I did not like having to acknowledge Kageyama as the sole human being inside that large building, so I snapped out my defense.

 

He looked at me as if he could not understand what I was going on about. “I thought you were,” he said, “devoted.” And he looked at my hand that had been once injured and skinned, and I glared at him as I covered the scar up with my good hand.

“I’m not,” I said. It was just that one time, that only one time. The denial was desperate on my lips.

 

Loving Kageyama was like the last moments of the match against Shiratorizawa. I knew from early on that loving something drastically would only result in great pain and disappointment, and I assumed that one match would not change what had always been my perceptions of the world. If I become a desperate, passionate person, then there were too many emotions that I could not handle.

Why do you like him? If someone asked me this, then I did not have an eloquent answer. I liked his nimble fingers, his calm eyes, but most likely I liked him because he was daft enough to stay ignorant of my feelings. He had everything that I did not.

 

Despite my denials, in the summer of our second year in high school, we began to go out.

 

“Tsukishima.”

 

Across from me, Hinata took a glance at my empty cup and handed over the sake bottle. “You should drink too.” And he said to the silent and drinking Kageyama, “And stop fibbing, Kageyama, you have a match with our team tomorrow.”

“Whatever.” His irritated voice is a distant memory. Kageyama glared at Hinata and furiously clicked his chopsticks, attacking the nearest food plate. He ate voraciously and messily, something that I forgot about him, the way he would drip sauce on the corner of his lips and wipe them a second later with his tongue. It was a fond memory, not in the least revolting. It was also a useless emotion, and so I poured myself another drink. Hinata had grown immune to Kageyama’s stares. He had grown into a confident and rash young man.

Yamaguchi continued to study me. He looked uncomfortable with the whole situation, but he did not voice out his thought, nor I mine.

After this, Kageyama and I did not exchange any greetings. We let our pride build a silent wall around us. It was a meaningless thing, but it was also the only thing salvaged out of each other.

 

 

A relationship was always turbulent. Especially because in I lived in a small neighborhood and I liked a classmate who was a boy  who I later happened to date. It was unthinkable, and so I decided that I must take everything without much thought. One day Kageyama looked at my hands, and I said to him, what are you looking at? Do you see something you like?

It was a stupid and cliché response, and I knew that he looked at me as often as he looked at Hinata. It was nothing personal and not something that I should have commented on, but I did, and I wanted Kageyama to understand his change. He snapped, as I predicted he would, and he soon distanced himself to the far end of the gym. I looked at the back of his head. He sometimes looked at me and our eyes met; in those times, I smirked at him balefully, and he would shout and blush. That was the first step.

 

Time passed. We still stayed behind to practice but were nothing but teammates. I pushed ahead.

King, do you like me?

I did not ask him because I did not know. I knew very well that he did not, but he only looked at me befuddled, and sputtered, what, me??

He seemed confused.  I shrugged and threw out,

You watch me too much.

I ignored my own rising heartbeat and controlled my breathing.

He did not speak for a few minutes, but when he finally opened his mouth, he threw me off by surprise.

“What about you?”

Me. What about me. I could not tell him that I did, I desperately did but I was also rational enough to think that I would not be the one to say so. I would manipulate him into thinking the reverse, and here he was, turning the tables. I hid my irk and smiled at him condescendingly. He hated that smirk.

“I don’t really care.”

He continued to stare at me and did not speak.

“But I guess I could date you if you do like me.”

 

Looking back, it was such a pathetic and vile move. For weeks I purposefully grasped the attention of a boy who was not even gay and who had no love interest to speak of. That was the only solution that I could have think of at that time, and Kageyama only fingered the ball between his hands. A long silence descended upon us.

Then, out of the blue,

“Okay.”

I was taken aback.

“What?”

“Okay. We should go out.”

 

Come on, let’s go home. It’s getting late. He turned away and I only gaped at him. We therefore started a very spontaneous and unromantic relationship.

And so he would never know. He would only understand our relationship to be light and empty, and I let him think that way. I myself did not understand why I began to like him in the first place; I did not need him to try to justify something I could not. We dated and it was good. It was soppy and childish and ended in a sad and murky way. The last time we parted, Kageyama said to me with a tired face,

“You’re so hard to figure out.”

 

I could not stop him from leaving. I did not try.

 

4.

 

Miyagi was a quiet place. I drank for awhile and went outside the small izakaya pub. The air was cold and I relished in it as I looked up to see the stars above me. I found my cigarette case but not my lighter. I cursed silently, wondering if I should go back in.

 

“Hey.”

 

A familiar hand came to my view. It held the lighter that I was looking for, and I looked down to see Kageyama, who looked back at me with an unfathomable expression.

 

“Here.”

 

He clicked on the lighter and gestured at my unburnt stick. I leaned towards him and held the stick into the small flame. My lungs soon filled with the bitter smoke.

 

“I thought you quit.” He said this as a rebuke, as he stuffed his hands inside his pockets and looked awkward all around. He did not seem to be going back in again. I pulled at my cigarette and looked disinterested, as I shaped my response.

 

“I started again.”

 

Yeah, no kidding, his face seemed to say to me. What did you expect me to say? I raised my eyebrows at him. It had been a year since we last saw each other. He was in the national representative team and making his career, while I was a newbie in a new office working late hours. There was no point in asking how our lives were. I wished that he would go inside and clink glasses with Hinata and become wasted.

 

“Is your work hard?”

 

I didn’t know he could ask such questions. But he looked somewhat intrigued, even if it was out of politeness, and looked at me expectantly. He was waiting for me to give him a real response, so I murmured, somewhat taken aback, “…A little.”

 

“Do you still work long hours?”

“Yeah. I’m used to it now.”

 

He nodded a little. “Don’t overdo it.” He was not doing anything so silly as to worry about me. I must think that; it would make my life easier.

 

“If your majesty says so.” I smirked a little.

He hated this particular smirk. Does it irritate you? I mocked, when he first ventured out his dislike. But Kageyama gave me such a normal response that I was a bit surprised.

 

I don’t know what you’re thinking. You’re hard to read as it is.

 

“Wait, forget it. Why don’t you just die while overworking.”

 

He narrowed his eyes and glared at me. He still made that ridiculous face after all these years. I snickered a little and blew out some smoke. The bitter scent was enticing.

 

“Did you come to hand me the lighter?”

“And to prevent you from escaping. They sent me out to watch over you.”

 

You’re good at that, escaping. You don’t come to these meetings. Kageyama had one day grown into a person who did not balk at my every retort and calmly answered my questions without hostility. He met my own face with his tranquil eyes.

 

“It was too stuffy in there. I’ll come in soon after this drag.”

 

I answered back in the same quiet tone he offered me. I had no other choice. When did I stop learning to read him? There was a time when I could have predicted what he would have said, when I could have moved him to my will. Kageyama was superficially easy to read and I used that to my advantage.

 

In the first winter of our newfound relationship, Kageyama often looked at my lips. We were walking slowly due to the snow and slippery roads, and the alleyway was devoid of people. Hinata and Yamaguchi had gone on ahead and it was rare for us to be alone together. He continually turned his head in my direction and unnerved me.

 

“King, do you want to kiss me?”

 

I want to, that I did not say. Later, I heard from Kageyama that he was worried about the state of my lips. They had been chapped and dry; they were on the verge of bleeding. I cut his words off. So, you didn’t want to kiss me? He flared up and mumbled petulantly, no, well, that too. My own actions disgusted me. I did not want to coax out such an answer through manipulation.

But that cold and deserted alleyway, he had blushed and glared at me and I wanted his lips to touch mine. But I did not do this voluntarily.

 

“No one’s here. Do it if you want.”

 

I said everything to him so nonchalantly. Or not, I would always add, as if it didn’t matter to me one way or another. Kegeyama looked around, nervous. I stood still and waited for him to make the move. You should do this much, I thought. He stepped forward. He craned his neck and stood on his tiptoes to brush my lips.

 

I closed my eyes. My desire for him frightened me. At that time, I believed that everything was a mere fancy and my feelings were convoluted and one-sided. I was playing a one-man show.

 

I grew older, and as I saw this older Kageyama Tobio, I realized that I had never really known what he had been thinking about all throughout our tepid relationship. I did not know why he agreed to a relationship, why he would kiss me, why he would share his life with me. I had never asked him to the last.

 

He stayed with me until I smoked myself out. Then we entered the pub together. No words passed between us.

 

5.

 

I did not want to look back upon my love life. But the sake bottle was soon empty, and we ordered beer and more food, and I was drunker by the minute. Soon we parted ways and it led to an ironic situation in which Kageyama had to help me sit up straight.  

 

He was surprisingly a clean freak about his hands. His hands always smelled of fresh soap whenever I held my nose to his palms. His hands were now upon my cheek and I smelt that familiar scent, as he asked me quietly whether I had too much to drink.

 

“None of your business. Go away.”

 

I said this while rubbing my cheek against his warm palm. He let out a small sigh and supported my slouching form without any complaint. He pulled his chair closer to mine.

 

“Tsukki, I think you drank too much.”

 

I heard Yamaguchi’s voice calling out to me. I turned, and understood vaguely that I was leaning against something foreign. My head was heavy and Kageyama’s eyes were too near. Oh. I was leaning against him. Before I could yank myself out, he handed me a glass of water without any snide remarks.  

 

“Here, you had too much to drink.”

 

Good thing tomorrow’s the weekend. Do you have weekend shifts? I shook my head in lieu of an answer. Okay, I’ll take you home. A responsible Kageyama was alien to me. I felt cold.

 

The Kageyama inside me was always a boy who graduated high school and just entered university.  We lived together in the city and grew tired of one another. This was the story I wished to convey. We grew tired of each other and could not overcome this itch and tiredness, and that was that. But our relationship was not so simple as that. I loved Kageyama without accepting that he grew up to become a mature human being. I shut him inside my head into a sulking boy.

 

I quit volleyball when I entered university whereas Kageyama was scouted for the national team. He always arrived home late tired from practice and our days soon passed without any exchange of words because our schedules were so hectic. I was afraid of this sudden emptiness. I suppressed such trifles and threw myself into studying. I prepared myself for the goodbyes that would eventually come. This relationship was something that I had started in a fit of poor judgment and stubbornness on my part, so it was right that I should end it.

 

First loves always end in a nasty way. This was what I comforted myself with and I pushed him away.

 

That was our first goodbye.

 

“We should end this.”

 

I did not offer a reason. Kageyama blinked at me for a few seconds before his face grew pale. It was a face that I had not seen before. He stammered out his words. But, why?

 

First loves…and everything that comes after are not pleasant. And I think our relationship is something like that. I did not say this. I also did not say, because I forced you into this relationship. Because I wanted you but you didn’t. I only gave him a vague response. “Just.”

 

I did not think he would stop me. He did.

 

“I..no, we shouldn’t.” There was a quaint determination to his plea. I could do better. I’m sorry. The upperclassmen in the team..they train us so hard and I’m so tired when I come home…is this because I don’t do the housework? Or…he faltered. This was a new side that I had no seen, and it was pleasant and tingling. I looked at the bumbling person standing in front of me and let out a small snort of laughter.

 

“W, what?”

“You’re right. The housework’s killing me.”

 

We should divide the chores. He nodded at my words and his face lifted. Okay. He was all too ready to forget the incident and suggested that we eat dinner.

 

After that, I often said that we should end everything and every time he stopped me. And so, I vowed to myself that should the time come when he recited the same words to me, I would have the same courage to hold his hand and refuse him our end. But when that time came, he looked at me with such tiredness and I knew who had given him that emotion. I had worn him out with my own fretting and anxiety, and I could not let him be shackled to my own loneliness and irrational fears. The day when we broke up, you showed me yet another foreign expression as you calmly offered our end. I thought that I would never like to see such a face on you again. I gave you that face. That fact alone made me want to throw up.

 

“Urgh, god.”

 

The present. Kageyama dragged me out onto the street and walked alongside me. Move your legs. His grumbling was a fond memory.

 

“I don’t know why you drank so much. You don’t even like to drink.”

 

It was a remark that suggested how well he knew me and that familiarity overthrew me. I unconsciously tightened my hold on Kageyama’s hand and forced my legs to move. And then I tried to let go. I could walk fine on my own. He stopped me and grabbed my wrist.

 

“Sure you will, with all your stumbling. Hold on. Or do you want me to call Yamaguchi?”

 

He said this with such an impersonal touch that it made my heart ache. No, I said quietly, and I docilely followed his lead, step by step, as I secretly moved my hand to his wrist to check for his heartbeat. I measured the beats; it was a normal beat. He did not say anything about my actions and quietly walked me home.

 

“Your keys.”

“I have it.”

 

Kageyama held out his hand. My hands were shaking by then. The alcohol was gone out of my system and my body temperature was dropping rapidly. I watched Kageyama crouch down and fit the keys to my door. I was awash with desperation and guilt.

 

“Do you want to come in?” I blurted out. It was so unlike me, that spur of the moment proposal, and Kageyama glanced at me quickly but did not answer. He opened the door and gestured me in.

 

“Go in. Pull up the blankets when you sleep.”

 

Bye, he said. And he turned his back. But I grabbed him by the hand.

 

“King. Didn’t you hear me?”

“I did. I said I was going.”

 

He said this as if he was irritated by the whole endeavor. You’re drunk, go to sleep. The last words were so rational and something that I would have said that they flared a strange rage inside me. I did not know what I hated more: the fact that he changed into a reasonable human being, or that I did not change one bit since the last time I saw him.

 

“It’s too cold to just go. You should warm yourself up. Or does your majesty—”

“You.”

 

He cut me off. His voice was cold. But a moment later that chill soon evaporated and all that was left was his tired face.

 

“No. Never mind. Let’s not. Really, just go inside.”

 

I had to open my mouth. I had to draw in the cold air and call him back. But I did not offer an answer and only watched him disappear into the cold night until he was gone.

 

You’re too hard to read. This was him, the last words he spoke to me as my lover. At that time I only saw him as an idiot who only loved volleyball and did not understand anxiety and human affection. And I hated myself for hoarding such unrequited feelings, and I wanted Kageyama to feel what I was suffering through. I wanted him to love me just as much as I loved him, but resigned myself to admitting that would never happen. But the last night when we parted, I saw his face and knew.

 

He too, had loved me. And he understood all the ugly feelings that came with that love. Those were the scars that I taught him. And so. It was right that I should have ended it. That was the only farewell etiquette that I could offer him.  

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews are always welcome!


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